Ephemeral
by ensuzu
Summary: Lasting for only a moment, that describes Vanessa Ives. More or less. Because of her short spurts of being who she is, she finds herself lacking in connection with others. Unable to coexist in one world or another, to find a kindred spirit who is like her is nearly impossible. And if there is one, there are strings attached. But surely there would be a chaste friendship out there.


It had been some time since Vanessa Ives had healed from the time she was 'ill', having yet to thank those who took care of her. Of course she exchanged some sort of gratefulness to both Sir Malcolm and Sabene in her own way, there was no round about way for those three. And she exchanged pleasantries with Ethan Chandler, short words spoken with some grievances. A quick smoke to relieve what they both had deep inside them both. After all he had lost his Miss Brona Croft. Vanessa had no intentions of imposing on him much longer, my that would be distasteful. Even if she had found some sort of feelings for him, even if he had saved her from that serpent. She could not allow herself to delve into anything so impure, so out of her control. Added with the fact she did recall the instances she was not herself, this man, this very man had slept with the man who she had a rare connection with. Fucked him. She needed to be with someone like herself, or someone she would like to be. Emotionless.

She must remained poised, her soul her own. With no selfish desires.

That left her with young Doctor Victor Frankenstein, who she had yet to thank to some extent. Who visited time to time, to check on her health. In case of a relapse, as well as the visit the vast collection of literature that Sir Malcolm's estate had to offer. Today was one of those days he had decided to visit, which allowed her some piece of mind. Watching him from the entrance of the room, glass eyes watching him with curiosity. Maybe it was because the young doctor reminded her of her chaste sweetheart, Peter. Both were weak in a way, both so greatly desired some type of usefulness to those they looked up. She found it amusing, quaint even. Maybe it was nostalgia that allowed her to be comfortable with the poetic man who was a morbid fellow.

Gliding across the room, her footsteps light as a feather and unheard. The only noise probably heard was the ruffle of her dress. Though it seemed the young doctor had not made note of her, as usual. But she found that part of him charming, really. As she studied him, she could not help but notice his clean hands. Just like when he inspected her, when she watched as the serpent interacted with Victor. The fear, that was a first. The retraction of his clean hands, the steps taken back. Yes, she did like that. For good reason. If he feared her, he was being sensible. He would not approach her like Dorian, nor would he be so accepting of her like Ethan. Or to use her like Sir Malcolm.

They could possibly, truly ... be family.

It was a selfish thought, bred from the loss of what she no longer had. And probably from her slowly returning to her normal state, was she being naive to desire such a thing from this 'bloodless' doctor? She probably was but alas, it could not be helped. Though she was careful, taking more steps to be closer but keeping an arms length away. After all, she had some sensibility on not allowing herself t be so intimately close to anyone again.

"Doctor?"

Her voice resounding as she prompted for his attention, just barely hoarse as usual. Arching up a single brow, offering a small smile as his head finally turned her direction. His reaction was to be expected, a stillness as he was surprised but it slowly transgressed to a step back before he stood just a little taller. To prove he was not afraid, or so he'd like to believe. Silly doctor. His fingers clutching tightly onto the book, knuckles almost turning white, a tell tale sign but nothing she'd comment on as of now.

"Miss Ives..."

It was said with hesitancy, his head dipping forward in acknowledgement. His own brows furrowing together, knowing that their scheduled appointment was not due at anytime and if anything she should be in her room resting. For god knows when they'd be out again, to hunt for that demon that had Sir Malcolm's daughter.

"Miss Ives.." repeating himself once more, "Is there something I may help you with? Feeling ill?

"Bothering you, am I?" She retorted playfully before she let out a dry chuckle. "But no I don't feel ill, I was simply wondering if you would keep me company. Or me to thee, I can't simply waste away in my room."

Her lips quirked upwards into a faint smile, to show she meant no harm. That she was her own self, that this was her. Would he take her up to her offer? Probably not, but she asked anyway. One must accept whatever the outcome may be, acceptance or rejection. Either way no harm was done, a simple request.

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**Note**: Not the owner of the character or series, merely written up for entertainment purposes u w u

hopefully this was decent, huhu.


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